from the Sixth Walk...

Then the rippling of fibres converted themselves again to foliage, as all speech converts itself to foliage in the night, and I felt this rippling simultaneously all over my skin. It was not necessary to differentiate the sensations of particular organs or leaves since this rippling unknit the proprieties and zones of affect—the entire body became an instrument played by weather and chance. We are so honoured to live with chance.
Lisa Robertson. Occasional Work and Seven Walks from the Office of Soft Architecture.

Less than a calling for a dérèglement de tous les sens à la Rimbaud and more observational openness to chance operations and their musics. The sentence just before what we have quoted also reminds us of conducive power of attention to ephemerality: "We can approach structures but not the substance, which is really more like a moving current."

And so for day 1034